


First and Last

by asocialconstruct



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: M/M, Self Harm, fantasies of harming others, medical setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:50:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asocialconstruct/pseuds/asocialconstruct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deimos should have hated him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First and Last

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nipisasloth](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=nipisasloth).



> This was written for nipisasloth's Starfighter Secret Santa gift, and it's my last fic of 2012. Also the fic where I hit 200,000 words of Starfighter fic.

Deimos should have hated him.  

He knew he was just a placeholder, replaceable and disposable.

Deimos stared up at the bottom of the bunk above him, listening to the navigator’s soft breathing.  They were so soft, so delicate, the navigators, there wasn’t anything special about this one or any of them.  Deimos should have hated him.

Instead he lay there listening to the navigator breath in the dark, wondering how long they would have to do this.  Until one of them died, probably, the same reason they were in this situation in the first place.  

He listened to the navigator breathing softly, wondering who would care if Deimos just yanked him down from his warm bed.  Wondered if the navigator would even struggle when Deimos dragged a knife across his throat to watch him gurgle a last breath lying on the cold floor.  Wondered who would care if Deimos opened his own veins next to him.

The navigator should have been dead anyway, that was how the story went.  It was supposed to be Cain killing Abel, not Abel killing Cain, but here they were with Abel sleeping in the bunk above him, Cain all but dead, and Deimos left to finish the job for all three of them.

Nobody would care now, no one left to care about either of them.

* * *

Deimos should have hated him.  Cain lay there safe and unconscious in his hospital bed, the bastard finally escaping the war and choosing between Deimos and the navigator by getting shot to hell and put under by medical, and who the fuck knew if he’d wake up again.  Deimos should have hated the navigator, the prissy little bitch safe and unhurt and moving on with his life already when Cain was lying there with a machine breathing for him and a feeding tube down his throat.

Deimos thought about just ending it, crushing flat the thin oxygen tube that kept Cain breathing, that kept them all stuck like this, doing Cain one last favor and letting them all move on with their lives.

Instead Deimos left Cain lying there, broken and useless and just waiting for someone to tell him he was dead.  Wondered when Bering would finally decide to pull the plug on him, just one more waste of resources, one more disposable body to be thrown away with the rest of the trash and no one to care.

* * *

The navigator didn’t take orders, but Deimos didn’t give any, so they flew well together.  Well enough, anyway, Deimos waiting for the navigator to get him killed too, put him in a hospital bed next to Cain with a machine doing his breathing, to wait for Bering to dispose of him along with Cain.

Deimos watched him when they were off duty, following the navigator’s small movements around the room, knowing he was being watched but too polite to say anything about it, his brow furrowed when he sat frowning with his computer, pretending to work and both of them thinking about Cain.

They spoke when they had to, fingers brushing when they had to work on the engine together, both of them ignoring it when it happened.  Deimos should have hated him and all his sidelong glances, eyeing Deimos up like Cain had never meant a fucking thing to either of them, just more disposable trash gone from the navigator’s charmed fucking life, just like Deimos would be once the navigator got him killed too.

* * *

It happened late one night, Encke keeping them in training running laps for hours after some asshole swung a punch at some other asshole during inspection.  The fucking navigators didn’t have that, coddled and catered to, using up all the fucking hot water when Deimos stumbled in exhausted and sore and stinking.

He threw open to door of the shower with the navigator standing there gaping at him with shampoo still in his white hair.  “Get out,” Deimos said, not caring that his boots and pants were getting soaked, they’d been soaked with sweat already, would be again tomorrow, and the day after that with his blood or someone else’s.  He started to strip, the navigator trying to rinse his hair out and cover himself and not  at the same time, like Deimos gave a fuck that the prissy little bitch was half hard and stealing glances at his scars and his ass.

The navigator didn’t move fast enough, so Deimos shoved him to one side as he climbed in the shower, the water not as scalding hot as he’d have liked, the navigator having used it all up, but it would do.

“I was almost done, you could have waited—“ the navigator bitched, and Deimos was just fucking done, turned and pushed the navigator against the wall of the shower, ignoring the little blond’s cock throbbing harder against his thigh.  Definitely one of Cain’s, getting off on being shoved around.

“Get out or shut up,” Deimos said quietly, tightening his fingers around the navigator’s throat, just a little, just enough to feel his pulse race.

The navigator flushed and Deimos realized that the blond was getting harder against him the longer they stood there, and all Deimos had wanted was a fucking shower.  Cain had always said his navigator was a slut.

Deimos yanked Abel’s head down by the hair, biting his lip where Cain had.  Not hard enough to open it again, Deimos couldn’t do that to Cain even if Cain wasn’t dead by now.  The navigator shuddered but didn’t shove him away, not that it would have mattered anyway, and Deimos wrapped his hand around Abel’s cock, all the way hard now, begging for it and desperately grabbing Deimos’ ass to pull them together.  It was fast and rough, Abel coming before Deimos even had a chance to tease him, moaning as Deimos bit his neck and jerked him hard, then dropping to his knees to finish Deimos off.

The water went cold by the time they were finished, Abel flushed hot and not looking him in the eye as he climbed out first,   going to climb to his bunk without a word.  Deimos rinsed in the cold water, muscles going stiff and nothing but old sweat washing off of him.

* * *

They went from not speaking to fucking and not speaking, nothing else in common besides how badly they both needed someone.  Deimos tried not to think about why as he shoved Abel’s face into the sheets and covered him in bruises, from fingers and mouth and sharp slaps, trying to find something Abel wouldn’t let him do and failing.  He was as open and pliant and willing as Cain had always said, telling Deimos about every degraded thing he’d done to Abel.  

He’d thought most of it was bullshit, Cain getting off on making Deimos listen while his mouth was busy on Cain’s cock, but Abel was as much of a slut as Cain had always said, beautiful and moaning and begging to be fucked every time Deimos walked in the door, aggressive even when he was on his knees or bent over the bathroom sink.  Deimos pinned his wrists and made Abel fuck him one night lying on the floor, Abel trying to bite and claw him until they both came hard from it and Abel lay there trying to pull Deimos to him.  Deimos left him lying there on the floor instead, going back to his own bunk and ignoring Abel’s betrayed look, wondering how much longer they’d have to do this, how much longer it would be until Abel got him killed too.

* * *

They talked for the first time when Deimos came back to the room to find the navigator smoking Cain’s cigarettes.  Would have recognized that smell anywhere, no other reason for a navigator to be smoking.  Other than wanting to kill himself and too cowardly to do it fast.  

“He’s not going to wake up,” Deimos said, throwing his jacket on his bunk.  Harsh, but the navigator had to hear it from someone.  

Abel peered down at him from the top bunk, mouth pressed thin and clouded with the cigarette smoke hanging in the air.  “You don’t know him, you don’t know anything about him.  He’ll wake up.  He’ll come back,” Abel said.

Deimos shrugged and went to shower, not telling Abel exactly how well he knew Cain the kindest thing he could think to do.

He didn’t think to wonder about it later, when he lay awake listening to Abel’s breathing, uneven and fitful, the navigator trying not to cry. 

Wondered why he’d bothered to care what would be kinder for Abel, to tell him Cain had finally fucked them both over, leaving them stuck with each other while the bastard lay safe and dead in medical, or kinder to lie and tell Abel that he understood exactly how lost and abandoned he felt.  

* * *

Deimos should have hated him. 

Wanted to hate Abel more than anything when the navigator didn’t protest the next night, after Deimos finally yanked the mattresses down and arranged them on the floor, wanted to hate him when Abel lay curled against him, wanted to hate Abel for not being Cain, wanted to hate Cain for not being there, for escaping and not taking Deimos with him. 

But Deimos couldn’t hate anyone more than he hated himself right then, for needing this comfort and needing Abel.


End file.
